He sighed. “Even if Naomi hadn’t gotten involved with Tilney, I still couldn’t stand the guy. I don’t like the way he treats women.”
“I think he wants to drive for Blue Jet. He knows one of the owners. But it would only happen if they take on a third driver. They’ve been talking about it, but I have my eye on a couple of female drivers.”
“Speaking of female drivers, have you thought any more about driving yourself?”
She shrugged.
“You’re not going to let that setback with your father stop you.”
She shook her head. “No. But I’d have to give up my position as team principal to train full time. And there’s no guarantee even if I commit to the training. No guarantee anyone would be interested. I don’t even know if there’d be any open spots in F3. That would be the highest level I could hope to start at, and even that might be a long shot.”
“As far as getting a feel for being behind the wheel again and seeing where you’re at, we could get hold of some cars for you to practice. And of course there’s the simulator. And as far as fitness, we could train together.”
Her heart leapt, making her chest almost unbearably weightless. Her smile stretched so wide, she could almost swear the corners of her lips touched her eyes, which she knew must be glistening because she could feel that telltale prickle.
“We?”
“Yes. As in you and I.”
That prickle was going to develop into tears. It wouldn’t take long for them to fall.
Make light of it to stop them.
“You’d really like to see me step down as team principal for Blue Jet, wouldn’t you, Sir Stick? Can’t handle being beaten by a girl?”
He pushed her onto her back and rolled over on top of her, pinning her arms. “Put on a catsuit and we’ll discuss it.”
“If I put on a catsuit,” she purred, “I’m bringing my whip. Now get on your back, Sir Galahad, and lower those trunks.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ceci got out of bed when her phone rang. Clarke was asleep so she slipped into the bathroom.
It was Hans Zimmer, one of the Blue Jet Lightning owners.
“Hi, Hans.”
“Ceci, we have a problem. Mendelsohn was in an accident—a car accident, if you can believe it. He’s going to be okay, but he can forget about racing for the rest of this season.”
“Shit.”
“Me and the other owners have been discussing it, and we want to bring on Tilney to be our second driver.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Clarke and Ceci
ROUND 19: RACE 19: Miami, Florida
Clarke
How the fuck did this happen? He’d started on pole, Anker had been right behind him. And fucking Tilney behind him. That was bad enough. But Tilney had a phenomenal start, shooting like a rocket out ahead. He was in front now, with Clarke and Anker battling for second.
Tilney had yet to mount the podium, but his performance was getting steadily better with each race. He could do it this time.
He might do it this time. Damn it. He might finish before me.
This race felt like a must-win if Clarke wanted to have a chance at that trophy. Could he lose and still win the championship? Technically yes, as long as he didn’t finish below third. But if that happened, it was going to be much more difficult from then on. There were only five races left after this one, and it was close between him and Anker.
